Silent Hero
by MintToy
Summary: "The Calamity may be defeated, but at what cost? We lost everything. I was foolish to hope either of us could come out unscathed." Post BOTW.
1. Chapter 1

"Link. I want to formally thank you for your efforts in restoring peace to Hyrule. You have served your duties well."

The man in question casts a side-eye glance, expression hinting at both mild curiosity and confusion. I have travelled with Link long enough to distinguish even his barest emotions. Sighing, I fix my gaze down on the patchy grass, watching the raindrops soak through dirt.

"We end our journey in Hateno village," I remind softly. "After that, you are absolved from your position as my appointed knight."

His eyes widen just a fraction that only those close to him would notice. I understand his reaction well enough – the decision was purely mine. Lately, I haven't been one to mince words, and the events of the past have only served to make me more direct. I see no reason to be anything but straightforward now, as I fear important things will be left unsaid.

I know he has his reservations. Silent as he is, Link has opinions and strong convictions of his own. He's never been one to force them on me, even when we disagree, but he seldom speaks them. The fact that he has yet to utter a word tells me he does not oppose my order. After all, if he's been watching me for the past few days, months even, my remark should not come as a surprise.

Finally, I look up at him. He wants to say something, I think. The way he holds his breath and parts his lips tells me that the words are at the tip of his tongue. And yet, he remains silent. I wish he wouldn't hesitate to speak his mind, but I know the last thing he would do is argue with me. If one thing has withstood the test of time, it's his devotion to the broken crown.

In the midst of this grey sky and relentless rain, I offer a small smile. "Rest assured, Link. Ganon's threat is no longer," I say softly with a mark of finality, as if to remind him.

A few moments of silence and eventually he nods his head. Content, I train my gaze to the tops of the dueling peaks to clear my mind. I expect Link to turn his heel and retreat to the confines of the stable, but he remains where he is by my side.

I wish he wouldn't.

Somewhere along the journey, I witnessed a change in him. I picked up on it once it started, how over time, I slowly became a living reminder of Hyrule's fall and his past failures. He looks upon me with restraint and concealed pain that the air between us is now stricken with grief and filled with weary conversation. It's almost unbearable now.

Sighing, I pray for the rain to stop.

* * *

"Link. This place...this is where we-" I stop, noticing his aimless gaze. He can't even bring himself to look at me this time. Glancing around the grassy plains littered with lifeless guardians, I pause to reconsider my thoughts. Link was defeated here over a century ago.

Still, it was him who asked me to detail stories of our past. "Link. What do you remember about this place?" I ask gently, hoping for an answer.

Unfortunately, he doesn't sign or even do so much as grunt. In apparent discomfort, Link turns to his horse and focuses on prepping his saddle. Shaking my head in disappointment, I turn the other way. I don't know how we've become so close and distant at the same time.

 _Nothing. He tells me nothing these days._

It's as if all the work I've put into getting him to open up a century ago have been for naught. At this point, I should be used to carrying conversation all by myself. This is what I had done in the earliest stages of our relationship, the only difference being it felt necessary then. Now, with no looming darkness clouding the sky, the effort just seems pointless. I've run out of energy to make pleasantries and small talk.

His eyes constantly gaze off into the distance. His mind always wanders. He barely looks at me in the eye. The one hundred years of absence have strained us.

After his battle with the Dark Beast, I asked him a question.

He said he remembered me.

And after all these years, I thought it would fill me with joy, but I came up empty.

He remembers _parts of me._

Like pieces of a broken puzzle forming an unfinished picture. I spent one hundred conscious years in constant reflection and looking back, I don't know if I want him to pick up the rest of the pieces. Perhaps all that's left of me to find are the parts I'm not proud of.

* * *

For the past few months, Link and I have trekked through most of Hyrule. He knows these lands like the back of his hand.

I introduce myself. I visit the divine beasts. I tell the story of Calamity's end. To my dismay, introducing myself as the Princess of Hyrule who kept Ganon's power under lock was met with more disbelief than anything. It seems I've become a story myself. My existence was somehow variable.

At one point, I eventually lost the fire and energy to correct them and prove my efforts. It was the first time I'd realized how much the war had taken from me.

The only group that needed no introduction were the Zoras and even then, I could have fared much better. Of course, on account of Mipha's death, I'd been prepared for some admonishment. In my heart, I know Mipha's decisions were her own.

Link, once again, became my only hope. Ironically, his silent voice was louder than mine and as I struggled to validate myself, they took his word instead.

I couldn't bring myself to feel bitter this time. I've long stopped feeling rage at the way fate intervened in our lives. Link remains the chosen one even now, but he isn't spared from suffering. Initially, I thought the notion of us walking in step again would help him remember, but memories come far and few between. It pains me with regret that he has little to no recollection of his former life.

Over time, the countless minutes of heavy silence between us feel like boulders on my shoulders, weighing me down. I wish we could tell stories that aren't so dark and bloodied. Maybe that's why we hardly talk at all.

* * *

We arrive at Hateno village two evenings later.

Hateno seems to draw out the best in Link. I notice it the moment we see the entrance gates; his gait is lighter, expression more spirited. He mentioned once when we were travelling through Hebra that he bought a house here. I remember his words exactly: his dwelling rests up the hill, past the model homes and across the bridge. Perhaps the frigid and uncomfortable air in the mountains made him miss home.

He looks to his right when we march through the gates and I get the feeling that his residence is just beyond that path. He looks to me afterwards.

"You're free to find rest in your home, Link," I say in encouragement. In response, his brows raise in question, but I understand what he's asking here. I've infringed on his comforts long enough so quickly I scan through the peaceful village, looking for an inn or lodging of sorts.

"I'll take residence elsewhere. You need not worry about me."

He nods shortly and points ahead of us to a sign labelled 'Ton Pu Inn'. Grateful, I manage a small smile. In the same manner, I tip my head in the direction of his house. He gives me a genuine smile in return, the familiarity of it filling me with a sense of warmth. I haven't seen it in such a long time.

The moment escapes me after I bid my goodbye and then I'm alone again. I'm not sure where we'll stand in a year, a month or even a week's time so I suppose I should get used to this.

* * *

The young woman outside the general store spies a curious look at me once I exit the shop. With an energized greeting, she motions for me to walk on over.

"Hello! You're a fresh face around these parts. Where are you coming from?" she asks, features friendly.

I pause to consider telling the truth. "The desert. I had business to do in Gerudo city."

She flashes me an expression of awe. "Wow! That's far from here! You're just like Link!"

I shrink at the comparison, but nod in agreement. "I came with him earlier, actually."

"Oh, I hadn't realized he was back! That Link, I tell you. He comes back to the house to rest up for a few days and then disappears for months at a time," she explains, shaking her head at his supposed antics. "I don't think anyone can keep track of that man. I pray to the goddesses that he's doing okay."

 _So am I._

I sneak a glance in the direction of his home. I wonder if he's there right now, perhaps cooking or catching up on much needed sleep.

"So, traveler, where are you headed next?"

I turn back to the girl. "Back to central Hyrule, probably."

"Travel safe, then."

I offer the friendliest smile I can manage. "Thank you."

* * *

In between visiting Purah and catching up on research about the guardians and Shiekah slate, I find myself content sitting by the inn and watching people live their daily lives. In a post-calamity land where monsters still rage in the outskirts of civilization, this village carries a great semblance of peace, almost as if nothing happened. And for a small moment, even I can forget the past.

I like the way Manny looks at Prima with adoration that only a first love can bring.

I like watching kids run about and communicate in hushed tones about the tech lab director as if it's the biggest and most important mystery in the world.

I like observing travelers and merchants station their horses and donkeys at the front stable before finding rest at the inn.

The days tick on so quietly and peacefully, except when it rains. These days, I think about how Link is doing. Perhaps he's not even here anymore. Link is hardly the type of person to settle, considering what little it takes for him to seek wanderlust and adventure again. I wouldn't be surprised at all if he's in a different part of Hyrule now.

A week later, I get the answer to my question. At the end of road, I spot his figure standing with the Bolson crew. They talk and laugh animatedly with each other and out of pure habit, I'm about to go to him. The instinct is embedded so deep in my mind, taking me back to the years when we relied solely on each other, but now I don't budge. I see that his walls are torn down, whereas with me they're made of stone.

I leave him be. As far as I'm concerned, we are no longer tied together by fate or duty.

* * *

"Purah. Do you mean to tell me that these are the memories he has left?"

The small figure turns for a brief side-glance in my direction before focusing again on her work. She shrugs idly. "Hmm. Don't know. I told Linky to find the locations on the slate, but who knows? Maybe he picked up some other memories along the way."

I reel back from my shock and scroll through slate. A measly total of _twelve_ photos. It can't be. If these are all the memories he has of _me_ , then what little does he remember of the Champions? It's worse than I thought. No wonder he acts so distant now.

"This is a terribly small portion of the time we spent together," I explain to Purah and Symin, who's now listening in to our conversation. "Until now, I was not aware that this could be all he knows of the past."

Purah suddenly closes her book shut, seemingly annoyed. To my surprise, she rises her small height from her seat and points an accusing finger at me. "Princess, you're lucky he remembers you at all! Oh my, when I asked if he remembered _me_ , he had no clue! Even after all I did for him!" I almost feel bad, even as Purah feigns an exaggerated cry. She might have wisdom worth more than a hundred years, but she never fails to take advantage of her youthful appearance.

I wait for her to stop the tearful parade and in a one-second switch, she props up her book again. "But alas, I'm recovered now. I suppose we'll just have to make new memories, which reminds me, I wonder if Linky will agree to be the test subject for my upcoming experiment…"

Symin offers me a pained smile behind Purah's line of sight and I can't help but agree.

"Princess, where is Master Link today? We thought the two of you would be coming together," Symin brings up, changing the topic of conversation.

I shake my head. "We've parted ways since arriving."

Purah snorts indelicately and coughs into her hand. "I guess the two of you are on the rocks, huh?"

I glance at the small figure in disbelief. "No, it's nothing like that. We were never- I mean, Link doesn't even…" I trail off, unsure of how to approach it. Even in my mind, I don't know how to properly put our relationship into words. Slowly, I revert back to my usual front, steady and firm, just as my Father advised. Not wanting to be flustered any further, I keep my mouth shut for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Up the hill, past the model homes and across the bridge.

I halt my breath before knocking on his door.

Earlier, Bolson had informed me that Link was here this morning. Granted, that does not guarantee that he is _still_ in Hateno, but I suppose I should pay him a visit now when there's a possible chance. Taking a step back, I survey the front of his house.

 _Turn around Zelda. He's not home. He's not home._

I grit my teeth at the cold night. Only Hylia knows how many times Link has waited up for me, even bearing through harsh rains and storms. Perhaps I should return a piece of that favor and sit by the front of his door. At least now the sound of crickets fills the air and I can stare at the perfect, unbroken blue sky and white moon. When I close my eyes, I can still remember when all I saw was red.

Link doesn't arrive until an hour later. At his side, I spy that familiar bag carrying his haul of foods and monster parts. Once his eyes find me, he slows to a stop. The moonlight shines only the side of his face, eyes widening upon realizing it's me waiting at his door. I take this as my cue to stand.

"Hello Link," I greet quickly, bushing the dust and dirt off my trousers. "I hope you'll forgive me for intruding. I understand it's been a while."

He shakes his head, waving off my concern, but as usual, he says nothing in return.

I pull out the Shiekah slate from my belt. I've spent more than enough time studying its newer features. Link likely has better uses for it anyway.

"I wanted to return the slate. I figure, should you desire to travel again, you could use it to your advantage," I explain, watching as his eyes settle on the slate.

No hesitation, he shakes his head again and gestures to me. I know his mannerisms well enough that he's telling me to keep it, but I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. Walking over to him, I offer the slate out to him once again.

"Please take it, Link. I insist."

Fortunately, he eventually does, but not without uncertainty. He slings it back on his belt, rightfully so, and I don't miss his uneasy movements. I focus narrowly on his visage, taking note of some newly acquired features. The moonlight might disguise most of his figure, but I see enough to distinguish evidence of recent battle.

I tilt my head to side, raising a brow. "You have marks on your face," I state blankly, without reprimand or scold.

He looks away entirely, rubbing the back of his head.

My features soften. "You're safe now."

His brows rise and then after, he nods. This isn't the first time I've repeated it.

My lips form a frown as I ignore the heavy air filling in the spaces, threatening to silence my voice. I bid him a final nod. "Good night then."

I brush past him and sense his eyes on my back as I stride unsteady towards the bridge. Somehow, leaving remains as difficult as it was the first time. I resume until I hear him, my name almost a murmur:

"…Zelda."

I slow to a stop. I've gotten so used to his silence that I've forgotten the sound of his voice. But hearing it now strikes a painful chord, even as his tenor voice is surprisingly soft and matches his tender expression. I turn to face him, eyes expectant.

He remains still, and for a silent moment, he looks at me without purpose as he considers his question. His gesture is subtle, but he knows I recognize it. Link tips his head towards his house and I regard his proposition for a brief moment before nodding.

I follow him to the door, noting the trepidation in my step. Once we're inside, I take a brief glance at the room. The home is quaint and lived-in. For someone who spends only a few days at a time here, the place is not as bare or empty as I imagined. Well-used weapons are mounted along the walls, there is food stacked on the counters and an adequate amount of clutter is scattered atop the floors and surfaces.

If this space is characteristic of Link at all, then I am not surprised. The home is grey and dreary, and the artifacts displayed tell stories of battles won and lost. But all other things – curtains drawn shut, lights dimmed low, bed sheets strewn across the floor – hint of a life with disarray and loneliness. I look at Link, watching as he ambles to the table and drops his loot on the only empty space.

"Zelda, I wanted to know…" he breaks silence, startling me a bit. His voice is a bit rough, the telltale sign that he's just beginning to use it. "…if you planned on returning to Hyrule."

I consider his question for a short moment, even though I already know the answer. I nod my head once. "I do." And then I briefly mull over the ruined state of my castle and suddenly amend my answer, "I have to."

He acknowledges me with a solemn expression and I continue, "Once I finish catching up on a century's worth of research, I'm setting my eyes next on Hyrule."

He does it again. I know it so well. The quiver of his lip and the hesitation on his face that tells me he wants to say something but stays silent. If he let me, I would stop at nothing to help him change the way he thinks about silently carrying his burdens. What I would do to gain even a fraction of what we had a century ago.

I know I shouldn't, not yet at least, but the words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Link, I was wondering…" I stop and gulp, but now I have his undivided attention and there's no turning back. "…Have you remembered anything?"

He's silent for a moment and then vaguely, shakes his head. "I don't think so."

My face automatically falls. "I'm sorry, Link."

He shrugs, but it's more dismissive than it is indifferent. "It's okay."

 _No, it's not._ I flash back to the images on the Shiekah slate. I suppose I should accept that most of the past will remain largely forgotten now. As grateful as I am, it doesn't feel satisfying at all to have lived this long just to tell dark tales and burden immense grief.

"You know, when I remember something, I write it down," Link says, derailing my train of thought. "Memories are scarce, but they're important."

This is the most he has spoken in a long time and I can't help but listen to the silent hero. Link looks to me, the smallest of smiles painted on his face. "Zelda…you remember everything. I don't imagine that's any easier."

Words evade me lately, and this is one of those times. I'm all out of things to say. I don't know if our lives are going to get easier or worse. I don't know what our future holds. I don't know what to do.

Silence stretches between us until we hear it. The soft tapping and drumming against the roofs of this house that can only be one thing.

 _Rain._

For once, Link is the one carrying this conversation. "There's a storm coming. Maybe you should…"

I nod my head, gathering my bearings and turning my heel. After muttering a quick goodbye, I stride past the door before he can stop me.

* * *

This is one of the worst storms yet. The rain pours down heavy and tirelessly against the ground, the lightning streaks and crackles bright while the thunders roar. All of it serves as the perfect distraction to peace and sleep.

I've never successfully slept through a storm. I never slept through Ganon's reign either, out of fear I would fail. I remain tucked under my covers, wishing and praying for the rain to stop, just as I did for one hundred years. I only have a small amount of happy thoughts to help me get by.

I think of my Father, the Champions and Ganon's defeat. And then I think of Link and all the times we've endured rainstorms together. His presence was a comforting rock to my inner turmoil and I think of our recent conversation.

 _I'm setting my eyes next on Hyrule._

 _Zelda, you remember everything._

 _Do you remember anything?_

 _I don't think so._

 _I'm sorry, Link._

 _I don't imagine that's any easier._

I breath deep and slow, willing away my anxieties with the sound of his voice. I count my breaths, feeling my heart slow as I steady myself.

 _When I remember something, I write it down._

I slowly open my eyes. The idea comes over me like a flood and I toss the covers to the side to shuffle through my pack for that book I'd been using to pen my research notes. Still, I don't start writing with reckless abandon. As Link mentioned, I remain one of few to remember the past. It's a privilege worth sharing.

As even as I can, I split the pages for all the names whose memory deserves preservation.

 _Rhoam Bosphoramus, King of Hyrule._

 _Daruk, Goron Champion._

 _Revali, Rito Champion._

 _Urbosa, Gerudo Champion._

 _Mipha, Zora Champion._

And nearing the end of the book, I finish in a neat scrawl.

 _Link, Hero of Hyrule._


	2. Chapter 2

Days pass.

I write almost every day now, if I can. After all, I used to journal quite frequently in the past. I'm surprised it's taken me this long to take it up again. Mostly, I pen memoirs of the Champions. They're already celebrated in their own villages, but I want their efforts to be known worldwide. They shouldn't be illustrated as figures in stories because their stories are real. Hyrule has prospered from their sacrifices. They will be revered as heroes and deservedly so.

In between, I visit Link. Sometimes, he visits me. Most of our meetings are short and he's silent for a majority of them. He only speaks when he's confident it's just the two of us. I don't mind, really. It's a leap from what we were a month ago. I think we're simply waiting for the day that either of us decide to leave. Hylia knows I can't settle here.

I find it easier to write the memoir book when he's around. As a figure of the past, his presence helps me remember, even though I can't say the same for him. Amusingly, he must think I'm jotting down very important and serious research notes, because the second he sees the book, he focuses elsewhere. He doesn't utter a word or make a gesture until I put it away.

* * *

The first sign of trouble brews under a full moon.

The town's asleep, but I spot a candlelight glow from behind his window curtains as I cross the bridge. The moment I'm at his doorstep, I know immediately something is amiss. His door is unlocked and I usher myself inside without a second thought. I look towards the upper floor first, where I hear the telltale signs of a fitful sleep and an unending nightmare. I know the sounds of distressed sobs and restrained breaths when I hear them. Quietly maneuvering through the cluttered mess on the floors, I make my way to his bed.

As it is, Link is overly dressed and wrapped in tight covers and yet he sweats and trembles frantically. A century ago, I could wake him up with little consequence and reservation. It was something he asked of me because night terrors always left him paralyzed. Looking at him now, it's not any different. Still, I'm not sure if he'll react the same now that a century has passed and his losses have multiplied.

I debate the decision in my head. Knowing Link's patterns of behaviour, these nightmares will only grow more frenetic and severe the longer I leave them. Consequence or not, I see enough reason to intervene.

I start gentle: hushed calls of his name and soft nudges on his back, shoulder and arm. After some fruitless efforts, I use more pressure, but not enough to cause harm. "Link..." I raise my voice a bit louder, " _Link…_ please wake up."

Nothing.

I sigh and look over his face, seeing sweat drops form on his brow in the dim candlelight. In the past, touching his face was the trick to wake him, but our relationship was different then. I'm hesitant to do it now, even though I still consider the risk worth taking. Slowly and cautiously, I reach over to lightly brush his cheek.

He jolts awake the moment I make contact.

"Link, I-"

In the next second, a choked-off cry escapes my lips as he seizes my arm and twists it forward in an arm lock. Off-balance, I stable myself along the sides of the bed as a sharp and burning pain sears through my wrist and shoulder. _Damn it._ I grit my teeth as I attempt to separate myself from him.

"It's just me!" I cry out, hissing at the flares shooting up my arm. "Link! Please, stop."

Finally, his gaze finds mine and he lets go. When he does, his eyes are large and filled with horror and disbelief. I can almost see the slow realization weighing in on him.

I step back to readjust, wincing at the remaining throb. When I chance another glance at him, he rests a hand on top of his chest, measuring his deep and heavy breaths. His concentration is fixed up at the ceiling as fear paints his eyes like I've never seen before. I can count with a single hand the number of times I've seen him this shaken and powerless.

Exhaling, I try to shake off the disturbance. "Link, you…"

Sluggishly, he lifts up the hand off his chest to interrupt me. I stop, letting him catch his breath and regain the control he's lost. With a large gulp and shaky breath, his expression collapses and he hides his face underneath his bangs – I know he's ashamed. While his posture remains tight and rigid, parts of him still tremble and twitch.

With the same hand, he points at me and signs loosely, ' _Are you hurt?_ '

I frown. If Link is resorting to sign language, then he's truly rattled. I consider the pain in my arm, which has dulled greatly. I'm sure with time, the sprain is easily mendable. "No, I'm not hurt."

He swallows hard and brings up his hands again, making a light twisting motion of his arm to remind me of what transpired. I sigh in disappointment, because my words often go unheard in the most trying times.

He signs again, slower this time, ' _I'm sorry. Please forgive me.'_

My face grows dim and dispirited. I try to catch his gaze, but he won't look at me. He must think I'm frightened, but I was never scared to begin with. In my heart, I know he would never harm me under any circumstance. I try once more to change his mind, voice coming out small and tired, "I'm _fine_ , Link. Think nothing of it."

No response. It's like he doesn't hear me.

I repeat myself again, mild frustration laced into my tone, " _Link_. I said I'm fine. It was an accident."

He remains sorrowful and heavy-hearted, but this time he lets his hands speak, ' _What if it wasn't?_ '

I stop my breath, knitting my brows at him. "…what makes you say that?"

Visibly, he grits his teeth and after a long exhale, he motions gently, '… _I've killed so many._ '

My eyes widen, and then I look away in remorse. Silence finally overcomes us. In my heart, I understand what he means. Over time, I've learned that the crosses he carries are different from my own. The role of a knight, a soldier, a _hero_ …the Link of the past once told me that battles and victories have blurred the lines of right and wrong. I didn't know how to respond back then. I didn't know how to comfort him. I still don't, probably because it's the truth. There's no shining light at the end of the tunnel; he'll carry this burden with him to his deathbed.

Link finally glances up at me, features sad and delicate. Bringing up his hands, he signs once more, ' _I'm sorry. I didn't mean it._ '

Softening my gaze, I nod my head and bring one of my hands near my head, ' _I know.'_ And then, as an afterthought, I sign again, ' _I forgive you.'_

He visibly relaxes afterwards, letting out a deep breath. I stand by his bed and wait until his breathing evens out and until he's asleep again. I tuck him in and blow out the candles, pondering the unbridled way fate has favoured us both in our lives. And yet, with favour comes victory, and victory comes defeat.

Unfortunately, we've got both sides of the coin. The calamity may be defeated, but at what cost? We lost everything. I was foolish to hope that either of us could come out unscathed.

* * *

"I've started writing."

The statement is random at best, distracting Link from his meal to glance at me across the dining table. I've debated back and forth about revealing my work and finally I've settled the matter. A number of years ago, I promised myself that if I ever survived Ganon's fire, I would leave nothing unsaid.

I open the book, smoothing out the pages in front of me. "I've given some thought to what you said – about writing things down because they're important?" He nods his head once. "…well, I've been writing memoirs dedicated to those who've passed. So far, the experience has been… _therapeutic_ , cathartic even. I was wondering if you were interested in reading them."

He thinks about it for a moment and then leans forward, regarding the book with mild interest. In one motion, I flip the book and slide it across to the table. He flips through the pages carefully, inspecting the amount of content and seemingly surprised by it. Once more, he looks up at me, asking for permission and I nod in encouragement.

I hold my breath as he starts the first chapter, dedicated to my Father. I'm not sure if the passages will resonate with him. I'm sure he had his own personal experiences with the Champions, most of which are forgotten, but I hope sharing my memories will bring them back, even if only in spirit. After all, I've bared my life open in this book. I've gotten past the point of censoring the parts that were uncomfortable or depicted me weak, even if my past self would think it unwise. If Link has any takeaways from the reading, I hope he understands that he's not alone in his grief.

I look up once more as Link reads in silence, expression bare and ambiguous. Seeing no use for me here, I silently bid him goodbye and leave his house just as he begins the next chapter.

* * *

When I visit him again, it's not for another couple of days. On my way there, I try ignore the rising pangs of anxiety and fear. He's sitting by his cooking pot tonight, no doubt roasting some sort of mushroom or fruit concoction. Wordlessly, I take the seat next to his.

I speak first, as I always do. "Hello, Link."

He nods in acknowledgment, but keeps his eyes glued to the pot. For a moment, I wonder if this is going to be one of those nights where I'll get nothing out of him. He might have gotten better at voicing his thoughts, but I doubt it's become easier. From the corner of my eye, I catch movement. From his side, Link pulls out the familiar notebook I left with him earlier, and I sense uneasiness lingering in his eyes.

He clears his throat before speaking softly, "I have questions…" I watch as he flips to a bookmarked section at the end of the book.

I lean in closer to recognize my scrawl, which is sloppier than usual. My memoirs of Link were the hardest to draft, and I still remember the bouts of hesitation and reluctance that went into writing them. I sink into my seat, trying to keep my face neutral even as my heart picks up its pace.

He gages my reaction carefully, eyes wary. "Do you mind if I…?"

I shake my head but can't bring myself to meet his gaze. "No, go ahead."

He clears his throat again before reading a short excerpt from the book, penned and carefully arranged by me. "… _I now regard Link as the Hero of Hyrule. The title is well-deserved, for I believe there is no greater rank. Not even higher than a Princess such as myself. For what can royal nobility afford besides the riches and inheritance of a kingdom? It guarantees not the greatest reward of all: the love and pride of my people. That honor belongs to the Silent Hero."_

He flips the page, and I identify the sinking weight on my chest as dread because I know what he discovered here.

" _One hundred years ago, my love for Link awoke a power inside me necessary to keep Ganon's power at lock, but it was too late. I'd already lost everything, and I wept as Link coughed his final breath in my arms. I thought I lost him too but hope prevailed. One hundred years later, he evokes a quiet strength in me still, especially now that my powers have dwindled. I pray that moving forward, his presence remains a pillar of strength, courage and hope_."

What follows is a long, awkward and strained pause and I find myself staring down at my shoes. Gathering a bit of courage, I sneak a glance at him and take note of his wistful gaze.

He speaks up first this time. "…did I love you too? Back then?"

My lips form a pained smile, because it's all I'm capable of at the moment. I know he can't remember how he felt and unfortunately this time, I don't have the answers. Still, I've lived for more than a century assuming the feelings went unrequited.

Keeping my eyes on the ground, I answer honestly, "I don't know."

He's disappointed. I know it's not directed at me, but it's one of the few times Link has shown anguish towards his memory loss.

"Zelda."

Finally, I look up at him. He has the words in his head, and I can tell he's working up the courage to say them out loud. "You don't happen to…I mean, even now, do you still…?"

I wince at the question. It's funny how he never needs to finish his sentences around me. I know exactly what he's asking. I might be far beyond my comfort zone, but I foresaw this event the moment I gave him the book. I can't take it back now.

I attempt a smile, but it comes out strained. "I…loved you a lot," I utter with a great deal of difficulty, because the confessional words are always the hardest. "…I've found that feelings like that never go away completely…even after one hundred years."

Saying the words now feels partially liberating, but it's only half the story. It's actually bittersweet. The loneliness that comes from being on this side of the confession is depressingly bleak, and no amount of self-pity is going to make it better. I'm almost ashamed. In retrospect, it seemed natural to love him considering our intertwined destinies, and that's what made it so easy. The hard part came later, when I realized how difficult it was loving someone who expressed little in return. I doubt I could have prepared for this sort of heartache. I suppose there's no other explanation than _old wounds never truly heal._

He offers me a solemn expression. "Zelda, I'm sorry."

I dismiss it as I should, because I don't expect him to feel the same. Not now, not then. Not when he only has _parts of me_.

Shaking my head, I try to move past it. "Don't be," I counter, but my breath staggers. "It happened so long ago. You shouldn't worry about something like that."

 _But you still feel the same,_ is what he means to say, and I agree. Minimizing what I feel doesn't make it less important and I don't know what else to say or do to make this easier. The truth is so imperative and binding, but it inflicts the most significant pains. This time, I don't know if our relationship will ever be the same.

A century ago, Link was once a source of courage and strength. I find he's still the same, but it's changed slightly. I have to find most of these things in myself now, as unsteady as I am. But sometimes, I wish I could go back to the past, when my Father ruled and guided with a steady hand. Back when I had others to share my burdens and struggles. Back when being in love with Link was something that made me stronger.

My hands lie still on my lap as I even out my breaths. "Link, I'll be okay. What I feel for you is largely out of admiration and respect. It might help if you look at it that way," I offer, my small attempt to lift the heavy air hanging between us.

He nods, muttering the smallest 'okay' and I think my time is up. I can't stay here for much longer. I've opened so much of myself already.

"I should go," I pipe up suddenly, rising from my seat. I'm about to make for the bridge until he stops me. I feel him tap the book against my arm, his silent request for me to take it back. I'd almost forgot that I came here to pick it up. Wordlessly, I accept it and all that's left is resignation on his face.

Rather boldly, I lift his chin up with a finger so his eyes meet mine. We haven't touched in so long, but it feels necessary. "Good night, Link."

* * *

I wake up to a pleasant surprise the next morning. I never thought to open the book again after what happened last night, but I did. Much to my delight, Link has penned his own passages. I quickly scroll to the last pages, wondering in amusement if he wrote anything on himself, but as expected, he did not. I am treated, however, to new content he's added to the following pages.

There are passages for Purah, Impa, Robbie, a Rito musician named Kass, a delightful Korok named Hestu, a merchant named Beedle and so much more. They're the names of those who've helped his journey. I recall meeting most of them.

Turns out his works add a wonderful touch. I struggle enough to get Link to express even the smallest of emotions, but his writings are a microscope lens to his mind. He illustrates the hardships he's experienced throughout his journey, recalls the odd folks he's met along the way and doesn't sanitize Ganon's brutality. He's shed blood and suffered turmoil for this land and it's apparent in his passages.

I could never get this kind of information through conversation. With his silence, I'm not surprised how well he expresses himself in writing. I never thought this to be the key to realizing him, but as I always suspected, Link's mind is not as simple as it seems.

I read from day until night, and then read through once more. To think I learned more about Link from this book than I have travelling the world with him. It's baffling, but with Link keeping mostly silent, it's not surprising either.

* * *

News of trouble in Central Hyrule eventually seep through the grapevine and reach the village. Without order or a proper policing force, there are bound to be groups, bandits or even remaining members of the Yiga clan merging and rising from the darkness. The castle, as unguarded as it is, would be a primary setting for this corruption.

I take it as the first sign to leave. Somehow, I have to find a way to re-establish order at the castle. Now that the calamity is finished, I'm not about to allow other uprisings run rampant. Ganon's plan may be thwarted, but peace is a fragile thing and wickedness still exists in human hearts.

I bring it up the next time I see Link.

"I'm going back," I tell him, no need to say where. He's not surprised at all by my declaration. I'm certain he's heard the rumours of trouble himself.

He regards me quietly. "When?"

"Couple days."

His expression hardens a little and I watch as his gaze lifts towards the direction of the castle, curious about what new dangers fester there. I shift in that direction too, wondering what I'll soon find. To be honest, I'm not sure how much influence I still possess with my name.

Then, without a hint of a pause, he speaks up, "I'll come with you."

I sneak a glance at him, seeing the determination he wears. Our thoughts and goals seem to be aligned. Just like myself, Link would stop at nothing to preserve the peace he fought so hard to restore.

* * *

Before stepping foot on Hyrule's grounds, we diverge from course to stop at the Great Plateau. For closure's sake, it seems appropriate to visit this place.

Link reminisces on his own. This land is significant to him in a different way. The last time I was at the Shrine of Resurrection, he was asleep and I was prepping myself for a battle lasting a century. Next, I visit the Temple of Time and marvel in its glory despite its decay. What's left of it is still beautiful, even with the overgrowth and crumbling walls. Standing here now, I'm filled with nostalgia. The goddesses have certainly answered the prayers I've made here a century ago.

Link also insists that I visit the building he calls the 'Old Man's cabin'. At first, I'm unsure of the significance of this house, but I realize it once I'm inside. Barren as the place is, the atmosphere rings a familiar tone of home and _family_.

"Father, you-"

Grief suddenly washes over me and the lump in my throat interrupts my speech. For some reason, saying his name in this moment brings the pinpricks of tears in the back of my eyes. I haven't cried like this in so long. Glancing behind me, I'm thankful that Link has chosen to keep this moment private. At this present time, I would rather he not see me in this vulnerable state. Slowly, I walk over to the table, fingering the pages of a tattered book containing a recipe I remember he loved. This must be what Link was referring to in his passage under King Rhoam.

"Father, I know you're watching…" I say quietly, finding control of my voice. My Father is long gone, but I sense part of his spirit dwelling here. "…I found it, you know – the power you yearned for me to discover in myself…I'm sorry it was too late."

In this quiet moment of solitude without an audience, I wrap my arms around me and let the tears fall without worry and care. The emotions feel important as I close this chapter of my life. Moving forward, I know I'll be focusing on rebuilding a different kind of Hyrule.

"…I wish you were still here. I miss you a great deal. I'm heartbroken the last thing you witnessed was Ganon's return," I continue. I wish I hadn't shown dissent towards him before he passed, but I learned there's no use regretting the past. Having lived through it all, there's simply too much to be grateful for. With a sigh, I swallow hard and bow my head to pay my last respects.

"I hope you're proud of me," I end softly. I glance around the room once more to preserve the memory and make a silent prayer for peace upon his soul. When I duck underneath the entrance, only the barest glow of the sun paints the horizon and the air is significantly cooler. I catch the Hero trudging towards the cabin with his sword upon his back, likely finished with clearing the perimeters.

Link has been silent all day. I suppose traveling these lands again does that to him. He acknowledges me with a nod and tips his head towards the thick of trees just ahead of us. I nod back, understanding what he means. He marches straight to the forest with supper in mind. While he's no longer my guard, he still goes through the measures to ensure my comforts and needs are met.

I'm about to forage ingredients myself until my eyes find a familiar object resting atop the log by the cooking pot. I haven't written in the memoir book in a while, but I noticed Link adding to it while I revisited the shrine and temple.

Curiosity eventually gets the best of me and I take a seat, flipping through the pages to read what's new here. Once I find it, the whole world seems to slow down as I'm filled with a heartfelt warmth.

At the top of the page, inscribed in his neatest scribble:

 _Zelda, Princess of Hyrule._

I don't notice, but a small smile curves the edges of my lips. I don't think I'm ready for this information, but I doubt I will ever be. I wonder if similar things went through his mind. Nonetheless, I press forward and read quietly to myself:

 _The Princess today is different from the one in my memories and yet she's also the same. She's more reserved now, and I fear she's broken inside. Perhaps I've been blissfully ignorant. Sometimes, I forget that the one hundred years I spent in sleep, she spent immersed in Ganon's torment. And somehow still, she possesses an unwavering love and loyalty to her kingdom. I solidly believe her tenacity throughout her trials prove stronger than my own._

 _One hundred years ago, she placed me inside the shrine of resurrection for the sake of saving Hyrule. I lost a part of myself along the way, but I hold no ill will towards her decision. I understand the sacrifices that needed undertaking at the time._

 _One hundred years later, her efforts prove fruitful, because Ganon is defeated. It was a hard-fought and blistering journey, but she guided me throughout. All the times I struggled and was brought to my knees, I reminded myself that she'd been fighting for much longer. Reaching the depths of Hyrule was worth it if it meant ending that fight._

 _The calamity may be finished, but we're left to pick up the pieces. She is a source of courage now, especially when I can't find it in myself. I wish I could tell her that. Someday, I hope she forgives herself. And I pray for a time to come when her heroics not go unnoticed, for I believe she's been the silent hero more than I._

 _-Link_

A whisper of a breeze brushes my face and I sit quietly, the book still resting in my hands. My chest feels tight and I'm overwhelmed, but I'm smiling. For a small moment, I feel as though all my failures can wither and disappear. And I think back on all of the hardships and trials that have taken us here.

For the first time in a long while, I feel light without the weight of grief on my shoulders.

* * *

I finally find him after a long search. Across the decay and crumble of the temple and up the hill in front of the shrine of resurrection, he gazes upon Hyrule castle in its formidable and weathered state. I imagine his mind reels back to the day he woke up here with sudden purpose.

"Zelda…" Link's voice is soft, battle-weary, like the shadows on his face.

I slow down to catch my breath and stand beside him, casting my gaze upon the stretches of land that can be admired from this view. I linger in the sight for a moment, until I hear him exhale a breath, and then I look up at him.

When his eyes meet mine, I don't notice the persistent hardness that's followed him since the battle. Instead, what I find is acceptance and a quiet fortitude. Reaching over, I lean in to clasp his hand in mine for small reassurance and faintly, I feel his hand squeeze back before I let go.

"Are you ready?" I ask gently, gesturing to Central Hyrule, which will soon become our new battleground.

He nods once, firm and steady. I still don't know what the future holds, but perhaps I can be content with that. There's a chance I might fail. After all, history has its way of repeating itself. Perhaps my leadership isn't what I hope it will be. Maybe I've already used up most of my energy and strength. Perhaps I won't even live to see Hyrule rebuilt and restored to its full potential.

But just a few steps ahead of me, I notice the bloom of a single silent princess flower and I'm reminded of the reasons I won't. I've endured Calamity Ganon. The Champions are set free. Link has chosen to stay by my side. The rain has stopped.

Maybe this time, I can look towards the future with hope.

* * *

AN: Alas, it's finished. It's been a while since the game's release, but I still marvel at its beautiful intricacies. I want to thank all the lovely and wonderful readers who've taken interest. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much I did writing it. – MT


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